


holiday glow

by swancharmings



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Fluff, Post-Canon, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:47:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28672473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swancharmings/pseuds/swancharmings
Summary: Harvey and Donna and a night of self-care. Post-canon, first Christmas as a married couple. (Originally written for the Darvey Secret Santa exchange 2020, for darveydrawer.)
Relationships: Donna Paulsen/Harvey Specter
Kudos: 6





	1. version I

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I took some liberties with the prompt, but I hope I did it justice. Reposting here to live in the holiday spirit just a little longer :)

**Holiday Glow**

.

They're halfway through _Frosty the Snowman_ when Donna starts digging around in her stocking.

"Just one second," she calls over her shoulder, and Harvey frowns, abandoned underneath their blanket.

"Hurry up. I'm getting cold." He stretches out on the couch, wonders what she could possibly be looking for when she's already devoured the chocolates.

When she pulls out the twin foil packets, biting her lip suggestively, Harvey shakes his head.

"No way."

Donna sighs, flops dramatically on the couch and dangles them in front of his face.

"Pick one."

Harvey deliberately keeps his eyes on the animated snowman and away from his overeager wife. "I'm not picking one."

"Yes, you are, because it's Christmas and this is my present."

At this, he turns to face her, mildly insulted.

"What about the gifts I _actually_ got you?"

Donna softens a bit. "They were great, Harvey. Wonderful." She kisses him and he dives in, sucking on her bottom lip for a moment too long before she leans back with a demure smile. "I was hoping to get just _one_ more."

"You know, when I bought you those, I had _you_ in mind."

"And _as the recipient_ , I'd prefer to share."

He's lost in her beautifully bare, freckled face, eyes glimmering in jest, and he can't say no.

Admitting defeat, he picks the lesser of two evils — the unassuming sheet mask that reads "revitalize and refresh."

Donna offers a skeptical glance.

"Are you sure? Because —"

"I'm not rubbing clay on my face, Donna. I have to draw the line somewhere."

She rolls her eyes. "Fine. I'm just saying, your t-zone could use some work."

"Hey!"

Donna snorts. "Never mind. Come on, open it up." She taps the package way too enthusiastically for his liking.

He tears it open and immediately recoils.

"It's... _goopy_." He gives her one last apprehensive look, fishing for sympathy points, but Donna doesn't take the bait.

"You'll be fine, Harvey. Here, let me." She carefully extracts the mask while he huffs beside her.

"Close your eyes."

He's wary.

Donna chuckles, tracing a line down his chest with her pointer finger. "I promise you, Harvey, it's gonna feel _great_."

His eyes squeeze shut, and he jerks at the initial chill before her thumbs smooth the crease in his forehead.

And, okay, maybe it's not so bad.

Her fingers glide all over his face — sweep across his forehead, down his cheekbones, pressing lightly below his eyes and coaxing his lips into a soft smile. And damn it — it _does_ feel great. Except he's pretty sure it's Donna's capable hands and not the cool gel of the mask soaking into his skin. In fact, he's absolutely sure of it. He clears his throat and rolls up his sleeves, flexing his wrists.

She smoothes him one last time before drawing back, planting a kiss on the exposed tip of his nose.

Then bursts into laughter.

He bristles in annoyance. "What?!"

"I'm sorry," she wheezes, "You —"

He bolts to the bathroom, flips on the light and sees Hannibal Lecter.

"Jesus Christ!"

Donna's doubled over, huddled against the doorway for support as he starts to peel it off.

"No no no! You have to leave it on!" She tugs his hands away from his face, hazel eyes pleading.

He glares at her before acquiescing. "Fine. But no pictures."

Donna nods, breaking his gaze, but her eyes flick down towards the phone sitting in her pocket.

He's not stupid.

"Give it to me." He holds out his hand.

"What?"

He tickles her side and she gasps while he slips the phone from her robe.

 _Louis Litt_ flashes across the screen.

"Donna!"

"Sorry," she shrugs, not sounding sorry at all.

"You know he's gonna want to do _this_ with me now, right?" Harvey scowls.

Donna snakes her arms around his waist. "Oh, lighten up. It's Christmas."

"I still haven't gotten _my_ special Christmas present, by the way," he notes, plucking at the red lace on her shoulder.

She smirks. " _All good things to those who wait_."

"You're lucky I love you," he grumbles, though it's coupled with a grin that could light up Rockefeller Center. She moves in closer but he stops her with a finger on her chest, gesturing towards her bright blue face.

"But I'm not kissing you like that."


	2. version II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate, longer, smuttier version ;)

"I _love_ Christmas, Harvey. I love it," Donna proclaims, pacing their bedroom in her bathrobe, hair half-curled in preparation for the next client schmooze fest.

Harvey smirks at her antics. "I know you love it."

"But god, I just... I feel so caught up in the madness of it. I'm angry at the associates, the crowds in the store, assholes on the road..." She trails off, quiet for a minute. "I want that magic back."

She fiddles with the zipper on her evening gown, resigning herself to making the best of it. Harvey's hands cover hers.

"Why don't we skip the dinner?"

She turns to look at him quizzically. "You've been looking forward to this night all year."

"Honestly? I've been looking forward to going _with you_ , as my wife."

There are things Harvey says that still floor her — even now, after being together for months — after _marrying her_ — and this is one of them. Tears form unbidden in her eyes.

"It's all a bunch of greedy corporate commercialization anyway. Not even a fundraiser." He smiles, squeezing her arms.

She chuckles and returns the gesture. "Well, who needs that?"

"Great. Then you pour us some wine, and maybe I'll let you open one of your gifts early."

Rolling her eyes, she sets off towards the kitchen. "Is it you?"

He doesn't reply.

The next thing she knows he's started the tub, water rushing through the pipes and she's quick to stash the bottle, biting her lip as she climbs the stairs back to their bedroom.

Harvey exits the ensuite with a cheeky grin, gesturing towards the box on their bed.

"It's not wrapped."

She's taken aback, but recovers quickly. "Good thing there's _something else_ I can unwrap."

He smirks. "Later. Open up."

"Is that what you'll say to me later?"

"Really?"

"Yup." Not wanting to wait another second, she eagerly lifts the lid, greeted with flannel pajamas.

"Oh, Harvey. Thank you." They're soft, not scratchy, and a beautiful, rich forest green.

"There's more." He clears his throat, rocks back and forth on his heels. She raises an eyebrow and peeks under the set to reveal...

...Another set.

A _larger_ set.

She laughs, the sound full-bodied and joyful.

" _Matching?_ Have you been reading my mind?"

"I'll suck it up for you." He's smiling despite the flippant remark. "And no, I'm not you. But maybe Rachel gave me the idea."

Donna holds them up and stalks closer. "Too bad you didn't get the matching boxers."

"Please. I have a little self-respect."

She kisses him. "Thank you, Harvey," she mumbles into his lips.

"So," he drawls, pulling back to rest his forehead on hers, "what do you say we soak in the tub, pamper ourselves and put these on?"

She doesn't miss a beat. "You'll let me pamper you?"

"If you must." He releases a put-upon sigh.

"Oh, I must." Donna's eyes twinkle.

He kisses her nose. "I'm gonna bring the magic back."

.

Harvey loves bath nights.

Not so much the bath itself, but rather, being in the tub with Donna — smooth and slippery and _naked_ Donna.

Tonight, to his immense pleasure, she's situated herself right on his lap, settled against his chest with his arms locked around her waist. Her neck arches, head coming to rest by his shoulder and he latches onto the exposed surface like a leech (Donna's words, not his).

One sneaky hand emerges from the water, slender fingers tapping along his thigh. Harvey watches with amusement as her thumb swipes across the head of his cock peeking above the bubbles, achingly slow.

"What are you doing?" His voices rumbles playfully against her neck, thighs tensing as her thumb continues its path. He sees himself grow, thick and pulsing against her pale skin.

"Saying hi," she whispers, coquettish.

Harvey nearly snorts at that. Donna's shoulders shake, giving away her own soft laughter.

He's about to comment when she clasps his dick between her thighs, soapy hands tugging on his flesh in that delectable, _Donna_ way and he pulls her flush against him, biting her ear and hissing when she flicks under the head.

Her folds are inviting, enticing, silky against his shaft and he tries to get his fingers in on the action. Donna bats his hand away and cups his balls, kneading them lightly in her hot palm. His head is swimming with wine, peppermint bath salts and pure arousal, groaning as he watches the bubbles drip down his abs and disappear into the bobbing waves Donna's making with her hands, up and down and rub and repeat.

His cock strains towards her touch, water sloshing over the tub with every jerk of his hips. Donna works him, slow and purposeful, curling her palm around the base and squeezing before sliding up the tender skin, creating delicious friction coupled with the subtle scratch of her nails on the way down.

The swollen head taps her stomach with each pull of her wrist and he thinks he might explode.

Until she releases him from her grip and he's left cold and throbbing.

"What—?" he rasps, not fully coherent.

"Before we get carried away —"

" _Donna_ —"

" — I want to _relax_."

Harvey grunts against her neck. "Who says this won't be relaxing?"

"I say, you'll be conked out in three seconds afterwards and I won't get to enjoy my bath."

"Ye of little faith."

"How about prior experience?" Donna pats his thigh. "Be a good boy and let me pamper us for ten more minutes."

She cranes her neck towards him, wicked smile plastered across her face.

His eyebrows rise. "Should I be scared?"

Donna motions with her hands. "Towel."

He reaches for the rack to hand her one and she stands, dripping wet. He admires the unobstructed view of her ass as she shimmies out of the tub to rifle through their bathroom cabinets. The water feels cold without her and he pouts.

After a minute of searching, she climbs back in and scoots back towards his chest, his still-hard cock pressing along her spine.

Dipping her fingers into what appears to be green clay, she applies it carefully to her bare face. Harvey kisses her hair, the spot behind her ear, the back of her neck and the tendon in her shoulder, lost in her musical hums and the silky skin under his lips.

Then she turns in his lap, locks her legs behind his hips and holds up five caked fingers.

It takes him a minute to fully register what she's about to do.

"No." He shakes his head firmly.

Her lips curl into a grin. "Yes."

"Donna," he warns.

She leans forward to peck his lips. "Want me to finish what I started?"

"You'd really withhold sex from me to get what you want?"

"Is it working?"

"Donna!"

She scoffs. "Of course not. But it might give you... _incentive_." She pats his cheek twice with her clean hand.

"Incentive, huh?"

Donna nods, stroking his chest.

" _If_ I do this... you think maybe I could... help _you_ relax?"

One inquisitive eyebrow lifts.

"Oh?"

He frames her waist, curves his thumbs along her hipbones. "Yeah."

"Okay."

He grins. "Yeah?"

"How can I say no?"

The words are husky and bitten into his lip and he groans, hands dipping lower on her back.

"Ah ah ah," she chastises, dragging his hand away and wiggling her fingers. "This first."

He closes his eyes and holds his breath while she applies the mixture, rubbing small circles into his skin.

"You can breathe, Harvey," she reminds him gently, fingertips stroking under his cheekbones.

He wrinkles his nose. "Smells funny."

"It's seaweed and hemp oil."

"Ugh."

"It's good for you."

"Are you finished?"

"Hold your horses, mister."

He can't help the warmth that spreads through his chest at these words, the very same ones she spoke in his dreams — dreams that were now a reality beyond all expectation, comprehension.

"There. All done," she whispers.

He opens his eyes, finds her freckled face mere inches from his.

He thinks, this is what Christmas is — _home_.

He's never enjoyed the holidays, but in this moment, he thinks this is the magic Donna was talking about. The low music filtering through the speakers, Donna's golden hair cascading over her bare shoulders, her chest pressed into his and wearing nothing but a dorky smile, one that he's sure is mirrored on his own face.

And then the song ends, the moment dissolving as the room is filled with clapping and hooting and Donna's wistful gasp.

"Choir warm-up," she exclaims in lieu of explanation and starts to sing.

" _Whenever anyone passes by, I blink my lights and I wink my eye_ ," she belts, pinching both nipples and running a hand enticingly down her hip.

"That's not sexy," he says through a smile.

"Tell that to him." Her ass wiggles further into his hips.

"Pretty sure it's the wet, naked woman on my lap. Not the song."

"Sure," she winks, and the tune changes, something slow and soft he forgets the name of but one that seems to settle Donna back against his chest, head tucked under his chin.

"Your turn," he murmurs, squeezing the inside of her thigh and she mews, bumps her knees against the marble and hisses into the steam.

"You like that?"

She doesn't respond, just ruts into his palm and he takes the hint, cups her center and slides one long middle finger up the slit.

It's not ideal; her butt is digging into his hips and the water is everywhere, but she's writhing and sighing and so he keeps going, tweaks a nipple in his free hand while slipping two fingers into her heat.

She hooks one leg over the edge of the tub, the other bent so her foot rests on the tile and the motion draws his fingers deeper, spreading her open under his touch. His thumb tightly circles her clit while he finger-fucks her until she's crying out his name, and that's when he knows she's close; he removes his other hand from her breast to rub furiously over the sensitive nub, speeds up the thrusts of his wrist until her thighs tense and she chokes on air, moaning low and hoarse.

Softly nuzzling her neck, he continues to stroke her, a slow back-and-forth to coax her through. Her lashes flutter against his cheek as she whispers to him.

"Now that was worth the wait."

"Damn right it was." He stretches under her, flexing his toes.

She follows suit, curls her toes along his.

"Thank you for this, Harvey."

He kisses the crown of her head as she reaches forward to drain the tub.

.

Donna drapes the towel across her shoulders, holds it open so Harvey can step into her embrace. They're dripping wet and the cloth can barely fit them both, but he's still touching her everywhere he can reach and his hard-on is heavy on her thigh, and she wants to make good on her promise.

Leaving him to dry off, she rinses her face and wets a washcloth, rings it out before returning to their cocoon. She slides her hands up his chest before gingerly wiping his face clean, and he leans into her touch, a quirky smile on his lips that she wants to kiss.

Then she uncaps her favorite lotion, squirts a generous amount and lathers his chest, leaving no surface untouched.

Harvey stops her halfway through, stills her roaming hands to take his turn; heavy palms sweep up the sides of her breasts and down her forearms, skitter across her collarbone, mold into her waist.

His heart thrums under her fingers — the ones on her left hand, she notices with a smile — while she caresses his stubble and presses her lips to his.

"Mmmm," he hums, and she pulls back, confused.

"What?"

"Was this... what you needed?"

The benign way that he asks is so typically Harvey, and yet so un-typically Harvey, she lets the question settle for a moment, blanketing her heart in its attentive nature before she answers.

"More than." She kisses away the last of his doubts. "You brought that magic back."

"Told you I would." Then, softer: "Merry Christmas, Donna."

"Merry Christmas, Harvey." Her eyes meet his knowingly, finally acknowledging the bulge on her hip. "And what do _you_ need?"

He grins from ear to ear. "Just you."


End file.
